Making The Best Of An Ill Omen
by ZoeGMiller
Summary: Orochi's first divination ends terribly, with her divulging an ill omen to the queen, Lady Mikoto, herself! What a disaster! Summoned to the queen's chambers later that evening, Orochi is determined to face her punishment head-on... however, Orochi discovers Lady Mikoto may have other ideas in mind!
1. Chapter 1

Orochi stood outside the ornately engraved door of the Lady Mikoto's chambers, steeling herself for the reprimand she knew awaited her—and not doing a particularly good job at it. Her eyes bore heavy red rings from her anxiously wiping her hands at them. Her tears had finally stopped, but she had no reserves left to quell her sniffling, which echoed through the empty, late-night palace halls loud enough for all to hear, she was sure of it, and still, she couldn't find any way to make herself stop.

Her mother and father were Diviners—who acted fortune tellers, herbalists, and all manner of other mystical roles—her whole family was, going back many generations, and now, she followed in their footsteps. The life of a Diviner could have many accolades, but it often bore far more troubles. When a Diviner prophesized a good portent, they were loved; when they foretold an ill one, they were despised. Such was the lot of Diviners. No matter how necessary their function, no matter how many good fortunes they divulged, all it too was one bad portent—no matter how true!—to turn opinion against them.

And so, here stood Orochi, a young Diviner from a relatively small noble house, who'd been granted the privilege of performing her first divination for the ruler of Hoshido, Lady Mikoto. What an amazing honor! What a sublime privilege!

What an astonishingly foolish girl, who took that honor, performed her ritual, and promptly told Lady Mikoto that she would fall face-first into a fountain before the week was out.

At the thought, Orochi permitted herself a small chuckle. She curved a finger and wiped at the corners of her eyes, dissuading further tears. Well, it was funny, wasn't it? To think of a woman as graceful and delicate as Lady Mikoto hurling herself into one of the palace's many marvelously appointed, expertly carved fountains with a sonorous splash, sending the koi scattering away, soaking her royal dress, and no doubt ruining her hair and make-up. It was so far-fetched and foolish she _had_ to laugh, didn't she?

With a deep breath, Orochi calmed her sniffling. Touching the brass handle to Lady Mikoto's chambers, she steeled herself. Enough crying, enough laughing, enough _delaying_. You've been summoned, and though the Lady hadn't explicitly _said_ it was a punishment, what else could it possibly be? What's more, she deserved it, saying such a thing out loud, not just to her ruler, but to the entire royal court. It was all but seditious!

Just as she was about to open the door and face her fate, however, Orochi heard a strange sound. The soft drip of water, and the gentle slap of bare feet against a tiled floor. Turning to face the sound, she found herself face to face with the Lady Mikoto, who was…

…absolutely soaking wet from head to toe…

"Forgive my lateness," Lady Mikoto, her lord and ruler, said.

Orochi startled to attention, straightening her posture and taking a step back. "Lady Mikoto!" She said. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"Quite all right, I assume you." Without concern, Lady Mikoto began to wring the water from the sleeves of her clothing. The barest hint of a smile began to grow upon her lips. "As to what happened… well now, you should know that better than anyone, shouldn't you?"

A flutter of confusion overcame Orochi—she found herself suddenly, pointedly aware of her lady's dishevelment, and the red flush it brought to her own cheeks. She found herself unable to look away from how the Lady's soaked robes clung to her. Despite the bulkiness of Lady Mikoto's clothing, they did nothing in disguising the curves of her powerful, matronly shape.

"T-the fountain!" Orochi stammered. "My Lady, I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry?" Lady Mikoto asked. Her wise eyes seemed sly. "Whatever for?"

"F-for my…" Orochi swallowed, glancing away as her fingers unconsciously twisting at one of the bracelets that adorned her wrists. "It's… what I predicted would happen, this morning."

Lady Mikoto released a gentle, maternal chuckle. "And?"

Orochi shifted on her feet, glancing away as the embarrassment overtook her in full. "A-and, I…"

"That's quite enough dithering." Lady Mikoto seemed to have no time to waste on Orochi's dithering. With the heavenly grace of her divine lineage, she lifted Orochi's chin with two delicate fingers, encouraging the young woman to look directly into her royal eyes. "Unless you're going to confess to shoving me into that fountain yourself, that'll be the last apology we hear from you tonight, am I understood?"

Swallowing against the burning in her cheeks, Orochi gave a halting nod.

"Now then…" Lady Mikoto lifted an arm, examining her dripping clothing. She pulled her fingers through the dampness of her long, black hair, releasing a mild sigh. "I suppose fulfilling your prediction this late at night saved me the embarrassment of doing it in front of the watchful eyes of my courtiers, but next time, will you consider planning your ill omens for midday? At least as far as those involving impromptu baths are concerned? I'm soaking wet, and all my maids have retired for the evening."

Before she could stop herself, Orochi replied with a giggle. Eyes wide, she quickly realized what she'd done and slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle herself. Quickly, she stood to attention, hoping to hurry past this lapse in manners. "My lady, allow me to summon one of them!"

Already she was turning to go, but she'd hardly taken her first step before the gentle hand of Lady Mikoto rested upon her shoulder. A shudder of warning passed through her. That's right, she'd almost forgotten…

As Orochi turned again to face her lady, her heart sank inch by inch, remembering the reason for her summoning—she was going to be punished for her impudence, perhaps doubly so, now that she had giggled— _giggled!_ —in the face of her lady's misfortune. Even so, she struggled to hold her chin high. She wouldn't show weakness, it was unbecoming of a noble—even a minor one like she.

"That won't do at all. In the time you took to rouse them, I'd likely catch a chill. Could I prevail upon you for your assistance?"

Orochi froze like a rabbit in a snare—though, in this case, the tenderness of her Lady's touch seemed like a pleasant snare to young Orochi; perhaps a velvet one, or some other soft, comfortable material one could fall into, lose themselves in. Turning her head to look at Lady Mikoto over her shoulder, Orochi blinked. "Y-yes, absolutely!"

With an unhurried pace, Lady Mikoto took the brass handle and opened to the door to the chamber, standing aside and allowing Orochi to enter. Taking her first timid steps onto the room's immeasurably plush carpet, Orochi found herself almost unable to go any further, so awed was she by her lady's royal chamber. The room was perfectly appointed in every way. Its bed, hearth, sitting chairs, and tables spoke of a cultured style. Nothing gaudy, nothing ostentatious, there was something like an aura of elegance emanating from the perfect, yet unpretentious, furnishings. A quiet fire crackled in the hearth. Without hesitant or hurry, Lady Mikoto took Orochi's hand and led her to the fire. Once they were situation, she spread her arms wide and waited for Orochi's attentions.

Only then did Orochi come to her senses, blinking. "I've… I'm sorry, my lady, I've never acted as a servant before." Her fingers toyed with the tassels tying off the front of her clothing, woefully poor compared to the fine, white robes that Lady Mikoto was draped in—even soaking wet, with her dark hair plastered to her face, the queen and her raiment radiated a wealth of certainty and luxury Orochi could never hope to obtain—perhaps it would even be prideful to do so. "P-perhaps I should go fetch your maids after all? I'm afraid I'd only—"

Lady Mikoto silenced Orochi with a soft press of her fingers against her lips. Smiling, she said, "Your queen made of a request of you, dear."

Orochi found herself dazed, her clumsy fingers undoing the ties of Lady Mikoto's heavy clothing. Often, it took her several attempts until she could curb the nervous shaking of her hands to undo some of the more difficult, intricate knots that held the lady's royal garb in place. The robe opened, just a touch, and the soft swell of Lady Mikoto's breasts were visible. Her heart seemed to beat faster and faster with each knot undone. Her trembling only worsened, and she struggled to find a place to look that would allow her to focus on her task while avoiding the gradual exposure of her lady's body that was causing her pulse to surge all the way up to her ears.

Just as Orochi thought her heart was sure to explode, Lady Mikoto gave a simple shrug of her shoulders, and her clothing slipped from her body graceful as falling water, and pooling an the floor around her ankles.

Orochi took a breath, seeing her ruler unclothed before her. Now bare except for her underthings, Lady Mikoto showed nothing less than her usual, superlative confidence. Sensing Orochi's hesitation, she lifted a hand, trailing it gently through the younger woman's tied-off hair, behind her ear, and over her cheek, tilting her head so her shirking, bashful gaze meet her eye to eye. "There's a comb on the table, will you get it for me please?"

Orochi stumbled forward in her trance, happy for the excuse to break eye contact with her lady, thinking it might slow the frantic beating of her heart. Of course it did not. With shaking fingers, she picked up the comb—a plain, simple piece of white bone and some simply cut jade—and returned to the hearth, finding Lady Mikoto already sitting cross-legged in front of if. Her long hair spilled down her back in curious tangles. Even in her underthings, just a thin shift, she was unspeakably beautiful, but she seemed distracted, her face caught in a look of quiet melancholy as she regarded the first. Orochi took yet another pause, and cursed her ongoing fearfulness.

Lady Mikoto looked up, and the momentary sadness washed from her face, replaced with a genial smile. "Have a seat."

And so, Orochi did—though she decided it would be more appropriate to kneel. Lifting the comb slowly as if it weighed a thousand pounds, Orochi tried to think of how one manages to a queen's royal hair. Of course, she had tended to her mother's many times, but this was, obviously, quite a different scenario. Lady Mikoto gave her no indication, no sign, of how she should proceed, and Orochi thought it would be uncouth even to ask. Best just to do whatever she could. Cautious as a field mouse, she lifted a bit of Lady Mikoto's glorious hair, drawing the comb through it deliberately as she could manage.

Nervousness shook her hands almost to bits, but she tried to be precise. The popping of logs in the fire and the slow breathing of her queen provided a soundtrack to her effort. At first, she worked out each tangle awkwardly, but soon found her rhythm. Eventually, bit by bit, she relaxed. This would prove to be her downfall. As she gained confidence, her pace quickened, and the comb stuck in Lady Mikoto's hair with a sharp tug, drawing a sound of discomfort from the queen. Orochi gasped. "Lady Mikoto, I'm so sorry!"

Orochi spent the next few seconds in dread as Lady Mikoto turned to face her. She flinched as the lady's hand raised, but her cowering was for naught, as she found the queen's palm resting gently against her upper leg, applying a soft pressure. "We'll find have to curb that bad habit of yours."

Dumbfounded, her legs followed along with this encouragement, and Orochi took a seat at her queen's tacit request. "Bad habit, my lady?" she asked.

Lady Mikoto made a mirthful sound. "Orochi, you apologize entirely too much."

"You… know my name?"

"Well, I'd hardly forget the name of the promising young Diviner who made such an impactful debut in front of the entire royal court." A look of affection passed over Lady Mikoto's countenance. "Why do you think I summoned you here tonight?"

A whimper of worry found its way through her, but Orochi resolved herself to stand firm. Clearing her throat, Orochi said, "Lady Mikoto, to preserve the honor of my family and my ancestors, I am ready to face whatever punishment you deem appropriate for my impudence."

"Punishment?" Lady Mikoto blinked, her head canted to the side as she drew her fingers through her long, damp, dizzyingly black hair, straightening it. "Whatever do you mean? What reason would I have to punish you?"

"Because I… because of what I…" Orochi blinked. "I-I said such a terrible thing about you. I spoke with such gall, in front of the whole court!"

"Ah, so _that's_ why I came upon you crying outside my door…"

Orochi looked away, drawing her lower lip into her mouth and biting down on it. She nodded.

"Orochi, I didn't summon you here tonight to punish you." Done straightening her hair for the moment, Lady Mikoto folded her hands in her lap, impossibly poised, even half-naked and damp as she was. "I summoned you here because I was so impressed by your bravery that I simply had to meet you personally."

"Bravery?" Orochi asked. "But I… gave you such an awful prediction."

"You told an unflattering truth without restraint, which requires not gall, but courage. This morning, I saw a young woman—in front of her liege and all the royal court—display more courage in one moment than many Diviners twice her age have shown in their entire lives. I imagine the nobles will be murmuring about that prediction of yours for years to come." She reached up with conviction, cupping Orochi's cheek and drawing her near. "Why, I'd even say you made quite a "splash" this morning."

After a momentary pause, Lady Mikoto gave a brief, very un-royal snort of laugher. Despite herself, Orochi found herself replying in kind, and a smile crept its way across her lips. The pun hovered in the air between them like a bubble, burst by their mirth, as the two descended into a shared laughter, unrestrained by class and unconcerned of station. After several seconds, Orochi managed to calm herself, wiping tears of a different sort from the corners of her eyes.

Likewise, Lady Mikoto quieted herself, appearing prim and proper once more, the moment passed. A soft shiver rolled through her bare shoulders, and she sighed. "I'll catch a chill in this weather…" She glanced towards the window, to the starry night outside. "Ah, but the hour's grown late, and I've consumed so much of your evening already, I couldn't ask upon you further."

Orochi noticed the flush of her cheeks, she felt dizzy, and it was almost as if she could still feel Lady Mikoto's hand resting upon her cheek. "Please, my lady, I'm happy to assist you any way you need!"

To this, Lady Mikoto nodded in her regal way. "Well, when you put it that way…" Placing a hand around Orochi's, she stood, and Orochi followed suit, then, she hooked her arm at the elbow. "Then will you escort me to the royal baths, my dear?"

At the question, Orochi bristled with a confidence like she'd never felt before. Despite the dizziness in her head and the butterflies in her stomach, she felt blazing, alive, and powerful. Setting her lips into a firm line, she nodded, and hurried to take the arm of her ruler.


	2. Chapter 2

**Description** : _Orochi is all but walking on clouds as Lady Mikoto leads her to the royal baths for a private dip in the palace's hot springs. But just as things are heating up, a new visitor throws a spear in things, and Orochi finds herself at a frustrated loss._

Orochi's feet never touched the ground, not once, as she walked with Lady Mikoto through the back halls of the royal palace. Quietly amazed, she answered the queen's questions about her family on autopilot as the she took in, with mild wonder, the maze of passages that gave Lady Mikoto the full run of her palace while also maintaining her privacy. Orochi had heard talk of these halls, of course, but she knew they were for the benefit of Lady Mikoto and her servants; she never expected to walk in them herself—and certainly not in private, arm in arm with the queen!

They separated as they reached the end of the passageway before a heavy mahogany door. Opening it brought a small draft of chill night wind that gave Orochi a momentary shiver. Lady Mikoto stepped down onto the stone pathway that wound its way through the small garden. Orochi followed, her senses numb, stepping out after Lady Mikoto had gone a few paces already. The air was still, slightly warm with the moisture of the hot spring, and scented of minerals. Dazzled, she took in the sensation of the outside world as if through her pores, for her eyes with trapped by the sight of Lady Mikoto's long mane of rich, black hair swaying leisurely against her back as she walked. The soles of Orochi's feet felt as if she were walking on a trail of fluffy clouds, not stone at all.

Bordering the spring was a tall wooden fence painted with the royal crest. The stone path split, one direction leading to the spring, the other to a small enclosure, curtained off by a tapestry of lightweight brocade and silver stitching. In this small changing area sat a pair of hewn stone benches and a wooden hutch of small cubbies for towels and clothing. It took Orochi every thread of her wits just to place one foot in front of the other, to remember her courtly manners, and to walk precisely, so as not to embarrass herself—she certainly had no mind to undress… or if she even should!

But Lady Mikoto changed without hesitation. As she shrugged her kimono off of her supple shoulders that she turned to look at Orochi, bringing attention to the young woman's dithering. "Is everything all right, dear?" She asked.

Orochi had stopped at the entrance of the changing nook, and fingered the threaded knot at the front of her clothing with a now familiar hesitation. "Yes, it's only…"

"It's your robes, isn't it?" Lady Mikoto asked, effortlessly offering Orochi a much-needed excuse. "Official attire is cumbersome, I know. Do you need some assistance?"

"Not at all!" Orochi said. "If anything, I should offer mine."

The queen quieted her with a smile. "Let's not stand on ceremony tonight. I remember what it was like to be a young noblewoman, discovering no one had trained me to undress myself without the help of a score of servants."

"No, it's not that," Orochi admitted. "I only…"

Lady Mikoto's smile was serene, her words like tender whispers. "I understand. I'll change, then, and leave you to your privacy."

To that, Orochi nodded.

Lady Mikoto turned away and shed her clothing with a small shrug, letting the kimono fall to the ground at her feet, prompting a soft inhale from Orochi, who quickly looked away, for modesty, while the queen wrapped herself in a large white towel—though even that fleeting glance of the queen's shapely form burned instantly into her memory, no matter how ardently she tried to will it away.

Passing Orochi, Lady Mikoto offered the young woman's shoulder a squeeze. "Don't tarry. There's a chill growing in the air tonight, and the water is warm—I'd love to show you."

If tearing her robes to pieces could hasten her changing, Orochi would've done so without hesitation. Fortunately, such drastic measures proved not unnecessary. With clumsy fingers, she undid the ties of her heavy robes—though it took several attempts—and hastily shoved them into one of the wooden cubbies. Taking one of the towels for herself, she wrapped her body in it and tied it off with a quick knot above her breasts, hurrying out of the changing area and to the spring with a stride that most nobles would not call strictly "courtly."

Past the fence, Orochi followed the sound of bubbling water to the small spring, barely bigger than a pond. It was ringed with a circle of wide, flat stones, perfect for walking or sitting. Lady Mikoto already lounged in the water with her back against the rocks, some of her long hair splayed out across the stones behind her, some of it draped over her breasts and trailing across the top of the water like a band of curious snakes. The queen had her head leaned back, just a touch, and regarded the moon in silence. Before Lady Mikoto noticed her, Orochi caught the expression of wistful melancholy, like she'd seen earlier, in that unguarded moment by the fire, that traced heavy lines across the queen's face.

But once Orochi's presence was noticed, the queen swept away such somber looks, bringing another smile to her lips to greet her guest. She placed a hand down in the water beside her and said, "Come, sit with me."

And so Orochi did. The first touch of her toes against the warm, gurgling water drew a soft, girlish laugh from her. At first, she was embarrassed, but the queen responded in kind, giving a mature laugh of her own that cleansed Orochi to the blood, sweeping away her thoughts of nervousness. She found her skin tingling. Each look from her queen was precious, for the strange confidence it spurred inside Orochi's stomach.

They sat for a while in the water, whose bracing warmth washed over Orochi's skin and soothed her to her bones. Lady Mikoto would ask questions, about Orochi's heritage, her training, her life in the capital. And though these were all simple answers, Orochi felt somehow unsuited to give them. Shouldn't she respond with something better? Something more than plain words?

"Are you comfortable?" Lady Mikoto asked.

Swept up in this dream, Orochi nodded and she smiled. "Yes."

"You must've been in a quite hurry to join me. You left your hair up."

Orochi touched at the heavy comb and brass jewelry that kept her intricate hairstyle in place. Before she could explain away her thoughtlessness, Lady Mikoto's hand took hers, setting it down against her side. Then, it returned, gently tugging loose one of the pins from Orochi's hair.

"Lady Mikoto," Orochi said, but her voice was smaller than a single crumb of a whisper. "I couldn't…"

"My children are grown, and my husband is gone. While all my needs are met, I've no one left to tend to." Lady Mikoto replied. "Allow an old woman her fancy, just this once."

At this, Orochi thought to protest harder, to rebel against her inner urges and preserve the fleeting dignity of this situation—there are rules she must follow! Manner! Decorum!

But she found no reserve inside her spirit that would allow it. Even speaking was like putting her weight into a boulder, so hard did her body resist anything that might deny her what the next second might bring, to say nothing of all the seconds after that one.

The queen, eternally wise, surely sensed this, in this moment knowing that part of Orochi's soul better that even she knew it herself. "Hush now," she said, and it seemed to Orochi that Lady Mikoto's breath smelled as rich as freshly cut oranges. "And give me this."

So began the lengthy process of undoing the precise braids and removing jewelry, a laborious task for any trained maid, yet the queen bore it with aplomb and care. Crickets chirped gently all about the gardens. The moon shone high in the sky. It was a clear night, no clouds at all, and Orochi marveled at how the stars seemed brighter, almost radiant, from this private vantage point. Even the sulfur smell of the water was pleasant, in Orochi's estimation. How could it be anything but, given her company? Orochi drank deeply of the queen's soulful eyes as she let herself be tended to, and she felt her spirit expand, touching all the motes of energy and life all around the garden. Subtly, she knew herself to be at peace.

As the loose strands of hair began to spill over Orochi's shoulders, the queen would sometimes take a moment to stroke her fingers through it. At these times, it was all Orochi could do to close her eyes. Her body was buoyant, far beyond what simple water could give. With each pin the queen set upon the stones beside them, with every incidental touch of her hand upon the bare skin of shoulders or neck, Orochi let herself drift a little further into an imagined, endless sea, and she prayed that time might surrender itself to this moment and go on, lost, forever.

The comb was the last piece to be set upon the rocks, and Orochi's hair was free in total, resting loose in much the same way as the queen's—though what a prideful thing to think. They shared words effortlessly, and their proximity even easier. With each sentence, the queen urged her a centimeter closer, and Orochi had no mind to do anything but lean in, in, and ever further in. Soon, she could feel Lady Mikoto's breath upon her face, and she could read the soft wrinkles and creases of worry that had patterned the queen's face over the years of her rule—though of course, Orochi thought her no less beautiful for them. As time wound on and on, Orochi's back arched with interest, and her body became heavy, and they drew closer, and closer, until it seemed to Orochi, for all the world, that there was nothing more inevitable than the kiss they were to share.

The crickets sang their song, and the soft wind whistling through the trees provided a chorus. The honey-brown color of Lady Mikoto's eyes was like rich amber trapped in the bed of a deep, cold stream, waiting for a brave diver to claim it. And, with some uncertain audacity, Orochi believed herself to be that diver, and wanting nothing more than to test her fortitude by plunging deeply into the core of the being laid out before her, uncertain if she would ever return, and hardly caring if she did. And then, at the end of some small sentence, Lady Mikoto's lips did part, and stay parted, and then did Orochi's, and when the closeness became like a burning fuse, only then…

A flutter passed through Orochi. At first, she took it for the nervousness of sharing this intimacy with her queen. Halting, just inches from the promised kiss, her heart pounded needily in her chest as she gazed deeply into Lady Mikoto's soulful eyes. Shaking her head to clear it, however, she realized that it wasn't nerves that gave her pause, but a premonition—a warning!

Before she could even open her mouth to speak, the creak of a hinges announced the arrival of a new visitor, and both occupant of the hot spring turned their attention to the door—Lady Mikoto with her slow, characteristic grace, and Orochi with a hasty snap of her head.

In the moonlight stood a tall women with long, wavy hair of a dark, steel-blue color, draped over one shoulder in a simple ponytail. She wore the durable white leathers and grey epaulettes of a Kinshi Knight.

The queen offered this new arrival a small nod of acknowledgement. Suddenly, potently conscious of her situation, Orochi shifted in her seat. The water swished gently around her as she drew herself several feet away from Lady Mikoto, for whatever propriety that would allow.

The woman gave no obvious notice of Orochi's embarrassment. In fact, she spared not even a glance towards her, eyes solely fixed on the queen as she approached the duo. As came closer, Orochi could make out the dull lines of a cross-shaped scar that bisected her face just above her small nose and between her lavender-colored eyes.

Stopping at the ring of stones surrounding the spring, the woman bent at the knee, placing one hand to her chest, and extending the other to her side in a deep military curtsy. "My lady, please forgive my intrusion," she began. "Ordinarily, I would never—"

Squaring her shoulders and assuming a regal stance, Lady Mikoto, so relaxed only moments ago, effortlessly shifted her bearing into a regal stance, somehow imposing, even sitting as she was, clad in just her towel. "It's quite all right." She said. "Is something the matter?"

The gauzy mood that filtered through the hot spring took on a more officious slant as Lady Mikoto straightened her posture, and Orochi struggled to follow suit, despite her anxiety, and the deepening blush burning twin holes in her cheeks.

"Not as such," the woman replied. Only then did she offer a glance towards Orochi. "But this is an important issue, it should be dealt with in private…"

Under this examination, Orochi shirked readily. Despite the woman's placid expression, Orochi cringed at the shoulders, intimidated. A gentle swish of water echoed Lady Mikoto's exit from the pool. Her bare feet padded gently onto the dry stones to stand before the woman. Beckoning her close, Lady Mikoto listened to the knight's whispered message.

Swallowing, Orochi slouched into the water up to her chin. All-too aware of not only her immodesty, but her tenuous position here—she must be crazed, she almost kissed the queen! Thank the gods this woman's fortuitous arrival stopped her before she did such a terrible thing.

As the knight relayed her whispered message to the queen, Orochi wished, with every ounce of her being, that she were not a diviner, but some sort of witch, whose powerful teleportation magics could whisk her away from this scene with only a thought. She imagined herself as a something small, a mouse, or a beetle, that might sneak beneath the notice of these two powerful women while they discussed their important matters of state.

Still, she couldn't help but look out of the corner of her eyes… she was curious, after all. She slunk deeper into the water, nearly up to her nose, and drank in the scene as tacitly as she was able.

Message conveyed, the woman stepped away. Lady Mikoto folded her hands in front of herself. A dark cloud filtered across her visage, though it passed quickly, as if forced away by a strong wind. In its wake, the queen's expression seemed swept up in some deep consideration, and she stroked her fingers against the back of her hand. The moonlight illuminated the small furrows that this obviously important matter brought to Lady Mikoto's brows. Orochi, lost for a moment in the queen's omnipresent beauty, let slip a small gasp of appreciation…

…and with it, inhaled an unexpected draught of water. Finding her throat suddenly clogged, she burst to the surface with a loud splash, throwing her elbows out to support herself against the edge of the spring, and heaving out a series of straggling chokes and gags as she struggled to regain her breath.

She recovered quickly, her breathing slowing to a gentle wheeze, soft enough that she could hear the gentle tittering of her queen. Blinking away her stress-blurred vision, Orochi looked up to find the queen squatting before her, one hand covering her mouth to hide her smile. "Are you all right, my dear?" She asked.

"Lady Mikoto!" Orochi said, already spinning the profuse apology out in her head. "I—"

But Lady Mikoto silenced her with a cup of her palm against Orochi's cheek. "Now now, let's have none of that," she said. "If anything, it's I who should apologize to you."

Orochi melted at touch, the queen's hand slightly cool from the nighttime chill. Her heart thumped inside her chest, and her passions surged. "I could never—" She said, hazily aware of her lower station, as if in a dream; putting aside the treason of expecting an apology from the queen herself, who could ever ask from one from a being of such remarkable grace and poise? What would she ever have to apologize for?

Just as Orochi tilted her neck to more eagerly meet the queen's touch, she found it gone. Instead, that same hand was offered to her, and Orochi closed her fingers around it as tenderly as the whisper of a ghost. Lady Mikoto drew her to standing, and helped her step from the pool. The water ran from her body and the night wind glided over her shape, stirring a shiver from her shoulders. Not four feet away was the queen's knight, who regarded Orochi with an impassive look. Self-conscious once more, Orochi held secure the knot of the towel around her chest and looked away.

Lady Mikoto permitted none of this quiet insolence. Again her hand found Orochi's face, drifting through the young woman's damp hair, over her cheek, and then down to her chin, applying a soft pressure that encouraged the wilting Orochi to meet her gaze.

"I meant I should apologize because something's come up that demands my full attention—and so, we'll have to cut our evening short here."

"Yes, Lady Mikoto." Orochi hastened out a brief nod as Lady Mikoto's touch left her. "I understand completely, thank you."

"Thank you?"

"F-for…" Orochi said. Her mind encouraged caution, but her heart would suffer no such thing, and so she said. "For this evening, it was wonderful."

At this, a brief fraction of Lady Mikoto's mirth returned to her face, only for the space of a single blink, and to Orochi, it seemed somehow feigned—but then, it would be presumptuous for her to even think that. Then, the queen said, "Reina will see you home."

A funny tickle anchored in the back of Orochi's mind, which gave her a mild pause. Something strange, a distant memory… and then she startled. "Reina?!"

To this, the knight, Reina, gave the hint of a smirk. "You've heard of me, then?"

"They call you the Demon of the Battlefield," Orochi said. "They say you're… I've heard you're a…"

Glancing between Rein and her queen, Orochi beat back a flood of thoughts crowding her head. Orochi had heard all the legends around the court. How could she not? Reina, the Bloody Butcher. Reina the Beast. A marauding hellion, if you wanted to be polite about it; a veritable _psychopath_ , if you didn't.

Thankfully, before she could bring any of these tangled thoughts to bear, Lady Mikoto smoothly interpolated herself into the conversation. "I believe what Orochi is trying to say, dear Reina, is she's heard there's no knight in all of Hoshido better suited for the task of escorting her home." To Orochi, she gave a knowing look. "As for whatever else you might've heard… Well, best not to tarry too long in rumors, isn't it?"

"Y-yes. Of course, Lady Mikoto." Orochi looked to Reina. "My family's home isn't far, but I would be grateful for your assistance, Sir Knight."

Reina took Orochi's hand in both of hers, lifting it to her lips and gracing it with a chivalric kiss. "Then it pleases me to serve as your company tonight, my lady."

Reina's causal, genteel gesture swept around Orochi as if it were a flood. A blushing, blinking mess, her eyes focused exclusively on the small, almost maternal, smile that tickled the corners of Reina's lips. Quite unable to speak, Orochi pressed out a silent, staggering nod.

"Treat her kindly, Reina," Lady Mikoto said, "live up to your reputation."

Stepping back, Reina again bent her knee in curtsy. "Always, My Lady."

"Then it's settled." Drafting her fingers a final time over Orochi's arm, Lady Mikoto drew the young woman's attention to her. "It was a wonderful night," she said, echoing Orochi's thoughts with a confident, tender cadence so different from the young woman's blustered stammering. "I'll treasure it, always."

At this, Orochi's heart grew wings, and her knees became like jelly. But before Orochi could think of words to say that could approximate even a fraction of the bliss now instilled in her, Lady Mikoto turned to go. Stepping away across the stones, Lady Mikoto's pale skin and dark hair were illuminated by the waning moon, and in Orochi's eyes, the aura of her being took on an aspect almost deific. All too soon, she turned around the fence, and she was gone.

Thoughtlessly Orochi stepped forward, as if there were invisible tethers between herself and the queen, now drawn tight with the distance. But, moving follow as if she were a manipulated puppet or mannequin, she found herself stopped. Reina's hand had closed gently around her arm, holding her in place, and that was enough to draw her back to senses.

"Take a moment," said Reina. "Leave her to her privacy. When she's gone, then we'll go."

Blinking up into Reina's cool, collected face, Orochi felt the ponderous wetness build in the corners of her eyes. As the taller woman wrapped her arms around her back and drew her close, Orochi buried her face into Reina's waiting bosom and began to cry.


	3. Chapter 3

Orochi sat cloistered off in the changing area near the hot spring, hugging the towel against her body and staring mutely off into space, trying to lose herself in the chirping of the crickets, which had continued unperturbed throughout Reina's arrival, Lady Mikoto's departure, and Orochi's maudlin display that followed—why shouldn't it have? What care do crickets have for love?

It felt like hours since the queen had left, though she knew it only could've been a few minutes.

Reina waited without complaint, just outside the curtain. A mortified shiver ran through Orochi as she reflected on her behavior—the unladylike breakdown that overcame her in the wake of Lady Mikoto's departure. Reina had said nothing, merely wrapping her arms around Orochi as was overcome by tears, and muffled her wrenching sobs against Reina's breasts. It was shameful on Orochi's part, completely devoid of grace or manners, wholly unbecoming a lady of her station. She was a noble of the queen's court. She had to be better than that—even now, when she felt as if her soul had been hollowed out and stripped away, she must strive to be better.

At the same time, Orochi was surprised by Reina's stoic tenderness. For a woman whose reputation as a bloodthirsty killer of the battlefield was known far and wide across Hoshidan noble society, Orochi hadn't expected her to be so… understanding about it.

Well, she was the queen's retainer after all. Lady Mikoto must've recognized something in Reina far beyond the rumors. It was… puzzling. Not at all what she expected, still, she felt herself wary of this woman. Of all the people to witness her outburst, why did it have to be her?

Soon, Orochi found the will to move... but dressing herself was another matter. She shed her towel and retrieved her clothing, but her imperial gown was almost byzantine in its construction, its folds and ties impossible for a single person to secure—this morning (was it really only this morning?) it had taken three servants to dress her for court. Now, she feared she had no way to approximate even something passable to survive the trip home—would, in addition to her failure at court and the late hour of her return, she have to explain her dishevelment to her parents as well?

No. She was a lady of the court, not some mewling infant; what's more, she was a trained diviner. She would not allow herself to be defeated by mere clothing.

The third time her fingers fumbled while tying an intricate knot, and the heavy robes collapsed loose around her form, Orochi vented her frustration to the air in a roaring growl.

Even the crickets were quiet, for a breath.

Reina's voice came quietly from the other side of the curtain. "Are you all right, my lady?"

Orochi grimaced. "Yes, I'm fine!" But another frustrated attempt at tying off her robes only forced her to recognize the futility of it. Quite a bit more humbly, she said, "I… think I need your assistance…"

Reina lifted the curtain and stepped into the changing area. She took in the tragic state of Orochi's clothes with no judgment in her eyes, yet still Orochi found herself embarrassed. "It's these robes," she said, lifting her arms, her untied sleeves hanging off of her as if she were a ghost in a children's story. Frustration clenched around her chest like a vice as she struggled to explain her predicament, to make herself seem less helpless. "It took three servants to sort them this morning and…"

Reina gave a brief nod. "No need to explain, I've worn them a time or two myself."

Orochi paused, still holding her arms in mid-air, as she lost herself in a thought of how a woman like Reina—muscular, war-like, completely composed—might look clad in courtly gown instead of the soft leathers of her knight's uniform. In her distraction, she didn't notice Reina's approach until the knight had begun to fold and tie off her sleeves. Now trapped, in a sense, Orochi made herself still, trying not to think on how the front of her robe still lay untied, and any slight motion might quickly divest her of her modesty.

The sleeves were sorted quickly. Reina stood her up and encouraged her to turn, making short, efficient work of the knots at her shoulders and back.

"You're… good at this," Orochi said. She usually grew tired of holding her arms up long before the maids were done dressing her, but Reina seemed almost faster than the three of them combined.

Reina gave a small chuckle. "Is that a surprise?" She asked. "I'm a lady of the court as well."

"I didn't expect…" Orochi tried to correct herself. "Y-you're a warrior, after all."

Letting that statement pass with no response other than a soft 'mmhmm,' Reina quietly committed herself to fixing the ties at the front of Orochi's robes. Though she hardly needed assistance with this part of the process, Orochi allowed herself to lapse completely into Reina's care—it spared more time for her thoughts, and she had so many to sort through… though she wished she had the means to simply box them away. The best she could do was focus on the working of Reina's fingers—they were calloused from battle, and yet moved with an easy dexterity, threading loops and cinching tight her clothing in a way almost effortless—and bore its own sort of grace, one of calculation and precision, so different from Lady Mikoto's.

At the thought of the name, Orochi bit down on her lip.

"Will I ever see her again?" She asked—of the air, she supposed, certainly not of Reina.

But it was Reina who answered nevertheless. "You're in training as an imperial diviner, are you not?"

"Yes, but—"

Her head canted to the side, Reina put on a mild frown. "Best not to think on those things. Enjoy what you shared, not what might be."

Orochi took in the mild melancholy that pulled at the corners of Reina's eyes. "You look as if you speak from experience."

"You've an adroitness your years belie." She gave a quiet chuckle. "Or could it be my affections are just that plain on my face?"

Orochi shook her head. "No… but…"

Nodding, Reina, said, "Like recognizes like—that's what they say, isn't it?"

Against her better judgment, Orochi asked, "Has she ever—with you?"

"Don't ask such questions." Reina cinched the shoulders of Orochi's robe with a sharp jerk, and set about tying the final knot around her neck. "You're far too young to while away your hours on jealousy."

"It's only…" Orochi said. "I wished to know…"

Reina shook her head. "Envy has a way of festering in your gut; better not to let it take hold in the first place."

But what option did she have otherwise? Sharp as a bee sting, a pain sprung up in Orochi's heart. She felt as if tonight she had suddenly grown wings and then, just a quickly, had them stripped away. For a few scant hours this evening, she soared, and now, a whole lifetime chained to the ground spread out before her.

A sigh heaved its way out of Orochi. She ran fingers down the front of her robe, straightening it for wont of anything else to do. So much tension ran through her, she felt she could run twenty laps around the palace grounds and still have energy to burn; at the same time, her stomach was as heavy as if she swallowed a stone, and her feet were anchored to the earth. Perhaps if she stayed in this place forever, she might just take root, become a tree, and no longer have to think on foolish, human things.

Reina took her upper arm with a gentle touch, encouraging her away from her troubled musings. It was done. She was dressed—not perfectly, but enough to get her home with her modesty intact, and hopefully forestall her parent's ire on the subject. There was only the matter of…

"My hair," she said, glancing at the fence towards the direction of the hot spring, where her jewerly waited.

Reina cocked an eyebrow and gently shook her head. "That's where my expertise ends, I'm afraid." The knight glanced off to the side, her eyes placid as she mulled over some stray bit of philosophy. "I know the women of the court prefer their ornate hairstyles, but I've no knack for it. I suppose it's just the practicality in me—can't fight battles with a head weighed down by pins and jewelry."

"Is it terrifying?" Orochi asked. "Fighting in battles?" She knew, as a diviner, she might be called to do such things, should war with nearby Nohr break out.

"Less terrifying than many other things," Reina said.

Orochi could only nod.

"Here then, how about this?" Reaching behind her head, Reina undid the leather band that tied off her hair into its simple ponytail, her hair flowing down against her back, almost as long as Orochi's, its dark-blue color almost black in night, but with a strange, otherworldly richness to it. "It's not perfect, but it'll do."

She turned at Reina's instruction, and relished in the brief seconds Reina's rough hands spent gathering her long hair and securing it with the simple leather tie. When it was done, she stepped away on shaky legs, and turned to face Reina, who touched a finger to her cheek and inspected her as if she were an exhibit in a gallery. Orochi flushed, suddenly self-aware, and tried not to fidget on her bare feet.

"Well, it wouldn't garner you much praise at high court," Reina said. "But I think you look very fetching this way."

"Oh, hush," Orochi said, mildly uncomfortable at being complimented—though silently grateful for the small distraction of embarrassment it provided. Her nose wrinkled, she forced herself to meet Reina eye to eye. "You are much kinder than… than I expected, given your reputation."

"Reputations are what reputations are." Reina said, adding a small shrug. "I suppose I expected something different from your reputation too."

"My reputation?" Orochi asked. "I can't imagine—"

"Admittedly, yours has had only since this morning to take hold, but court tongues wiggle worse than garden serpents. There's quite a bit of talk on you today, all around the castle."

"And you?" Orochi asked, almost aggressively, surprised by the paranoia of her question, but unable to stifle it. "What will you say about this evening?"

"My responsibility is to my queen. Have faith, I've kept her counsel on far deeper secrets than some mild night-time tryst—and besides…" She smiled. "I've few friends. Who could I possibly tell?"

Orochi nodded, recognizing the subtle inflection of humor behind Reina's words, but recognizing more the trenchant sadness that humor struggled to obscure. "You seem a solitary person."

"Then take a lesson from me," said Reina. "While you still have time to ensure you do not become one yourself."

A whisper of wind rustled through gardens, echoed by the clinking of glass chimes tied to the many trees of the palace, and again the chirping of the crickets swelled to greet them. Orochi closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. "I think," she said. "I'm ready to go home."

They left the palace through a small side gate Orochi had never seen. Thanks to the queen's private passageways, they encountered no one along the way—and Orochi was immensely grateful for that. Outside the wind was cool and easy, comfortable, despite the chill it promised earlier in the evening.

They walked the short roads back to Orochi's home in silence. The night was peaceful, without a soul in sight, but the manors they passed all had windows aglow with hearth or candle light, as if providing gentle reassurance that their occupants still existed, that Orochi and Reina weren't the only two folk left in this great, lonely country.

Reina walked with a proud posture and a careful gait. Though there couldn't possibly be any danger, her eyes were alert—but in a casual way, hard to notice without specifically looking… Orochi stole many glances at Reina out of the corner of her eyes as they walked, so one might say she was "specifically looking," but that seemed a graceless way to put it. She was merely curious about this woman, an honored kinshi knight, the so-called Bloody Butcher, who surely had spears to sharpen or battlefield tactics to memorize—better things to do than walk a lone woman home upon the safest stretch of road in all the country. And yet, here Reina was, seemingly bearing no ill will towards her charge for it. Drifting among these foolish thoughts, Orochi almost reached for Reina's hand as they walked—thankfully, she came to her senses and stopped herself before she did.

Wary of allowing herself further distraction, Orochi sought focus instead. She concentrated on the crunch of gravel beneath her feet, the flicker of the roadside oil lights inside their stone lanterns, and the night air brushing over her cheeks, letting the sights and sounds and smells of the world banish her thoughts as best as she was able. Still, her body had become numb, and the world seemed muted because of it. She worried she might always feel this way—constrained, cut-off—but at the same time, consoled herself that she was young, and this was foolishness, and tomorrow, the ache inside her heart might soften, and the day after that, perhaps it would become softer still, and some day, somewhere, she might become a woman like Reina—who had learned to inure herself to these feelings.

But some other part of her was revolted by the thought, and clung to the pain, preferring the wrought emotion of the open wound—at least it was something, something to feel, something to think, something to remember.

She told herself grow out of this in time, and this memory would just because a dull ache, hardly anything worth troubling yourself over.

With all her heart, she wished it never would.

"There we are," Reina said. "Home safe, as promised."

They walked quietly up the path. Lantern light still flickered throughout the windows of her family home. She began to steel herself for the combined punishment of returning at such a late hour lumped on top of the recriminations she'd surely suffer for her poor performance at court. She told herself it was of no concern, that she could bear such punishment easily—even gladly, considering it a fair price for the bliss she experienced tonight— but when they were but a few feet from the entrance, her heart began to hammer inside her chest, and each step came a little slower. Her knees started to shake and, soon, she found it almost impossible to move at all.

"I can't," she whispered—not meaning to say it aloud at all.

Reina put a hand atop her shoulder. Her voice was as temperate as the moonlight. "What you had tonight—dally on it, if you must, but don't let it consume you. She shared something special with you, something few have known—it would be…" She paused for a moment, halting uncharacteristically in her words. "It would be good, if you could find some way to let that be enough."

So quickly Orochi had built a dam inside herself, she hadn't realized it was there until the cracks began to spring up in it. Orochi felt herself instantly depleted, and she began to tremble. It began at the shoulders, but, once the shaking took hold, it spread easily throughout her body. Her eyes became hazy with tears, and she spent her last bit of resistance staving off the urge to hurl herself into Reina's arms, just as she had by the spring. "It's over," she said—because only now did it finally feel true, or real. "It's over."

Reina shook her head, and though her expression was firm, it was not unkind. "None of that," she said. "You are very young, and you are very beautiful. Nothing is over, you haven't even started yet."

Though it was bad manners, Orochi dragged the sleeves of her robes against her face. She had no energy left to spend on propriety. What did it matter? Let the whole empire see her clear away her tears as if she were a sulking child. "Beautiful? I'm nothing. My clothes are rumpled, my hair is a mess, and I've shed so many tears tonight my make-up has been ruined three times over."

"Then I can only be grateful for your disarray." Reina gave a tender shake of her head, her loose hair swaying behind her. "So beautiful you are in this moment, I imagine I'd be struck blind if I were exposed to full force of your splendor."

"Your—" Watching Reina's dark-blue hair ripple lightly in the wind, Orochi dragged herself to her senses. She strangled her tears with a series of sharp sniffles and went to remove the tie from her own hair. It would be imprudent to let her hair down now—returning home with her hair undone might add another scolding from her parents to the list—but at the same time, she thought she had no right to keep the hair tie. Better to return it. Better to…

Reina reached out to close her fingers around Orochi's hand. "Let it be a memento." She glanced towards the door behind Orochi, then back to young woman. "The wound is fresh, but it will heal; you will find someone who can love you as you deserve."

Looking into the maternal warmth that laced through Reina's eyes, not so different than the compassionate looks Lady Mikoto had granted her, Orochi choked back her final, meek sob. "But none like her."

"Such is our fate." Reina offered a wan smile, following it with a tentative inhale as she gathered her thoughts. "Though the circumstances may've been fraught, it was pleasant… sharing this time with you." Again, she paused. "I hope you'd say the same."

It was almost novel, to see hesitancy pass over the face of such a renowned killer; to the so-called Bloody Butcher, stumbling over her words. Somehow, this drew a smile from Orochi despite her tears. "I would." Far more timidly came her next words. "Thank you, Sir Knight," Orochi said.

"Please, call me Reina."

"Reina," Orochi replied, rolling the sound of the name around her mouth in a curious way—there was something pleasing about it.

"I am in service to our lady, the demands of my position preclude many social engagements," Reina said, glancing up to the starry sky for a moment before she continued. "But it's possible, soon, that you may be as well. If so, I'd be glad to have you as a friend."

Orochi nodded, standing tall as she could manage, and conquering the last vestiges of her tears. "I would like that."

To that, Reina lowered her eyebrows, and the tension of her lips melted into a deep, earnest smile. And Orochi's heart tried to find some peace in that in that look—however small that peace might be, it was something.

With a sigh she glanced behind her, towards the door to her home. But as she turned to go, Reina took Orochi softly by both wrists and, leaning in, kissed her atop her head.

"Stay strong, young Orochi," she whispered, nestling her nose in the younger woman's hair only as long as the space of a single breath. "Tomorrow's another day."


End file.
